


The wheels are still, let me hear your heart

by janescott



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, bus 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 04:33:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janescott/pseuds/janescott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zouis Bus 1 smut with some hurt/comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The wheels are still, let me hear your heart

**Author's Note:**

> One Direction do not belong to me.
> 
> Beta'd by magenta.

Zayn taps the button on his phone, closing down the texts as he stretches out his neck, feeling the tension in it ease slightly. He pushes the phone into his pocket and sighs, before going up the steps of the bus and making his way to the bunk area.

The bus is silent and dark; the only light a small pool of yellow over Louis’s bunk. Zayn bites his lip and swallows down a sigh. Louis is curled in on himself, facing the wall and well - that’s not good.

He’s been riding the edge of something for _days_ \- carrying too much on his own without letting it out to anyone. Zayn knows he misses home, misses his sisters and his girl, and Zayn’s in the same place, but he’s never as wound as tight about it as Louis.

And tonight - after the show - the storm had finally broken. 

Zayn sits down on the end of Louis’s bunk and carefully wraps one hand around Louis’s bare ankle. He’s wearing boxers and one of Harry’s faded band t-shirts which tells everything Zayn needs to know about his state of mind.

“Louis.” He keeps his voice low, rubbing his thumb over the prominent bone in Louis’s ankle. “Talk to me, babe.”

Louis makes a noise, like a growl or a grumble, but he turns on to his back. 

“I’m the worst human being in the world,” he tells the bottom of the bunk above his, instead of meeting Zayn’s eyes.

“Y’not. You’re tired and stressed because you think you have to take on everything for us and you _don’t_.”

Louis grumbles again, but he sits up and Zayn takes that as a small victory. He circles his fingers around Louis’s ankle and smiles.

“I made Harry cry, Zayn. How am I not the worst person you know?”

Zayn sighs and scratches his fingernails up the back of Louis’s calf, noting the tension in the muscle.

“Because you’re not. And Harry’s not mad. He - he gets it. We all do.”

Louis is a miserable ball of tension still, and Zayn just waits, letting the quiet, dark night settle over both of them.

“Is he okay then?”

“He will be. Liam and Niall offered to stay up in his room with him.”

“And you got the short straw.” Louis’s voice is low but his accent is sharp and the words are slightly bitter.

“Lou. No. Come on.”

They sit silently for a few more minutes. Zayn waits, perched on the edge of Louis’s bunk, breathing in and out. The silence feels louder than any arena they’ve played in, but he has to be patient right now.

He feels more than hears it when Louis shuffles closer to him, his breath warm, suddenly, on Zayn’s neck.

“Did you - talk to the girls?”

Zayn swallows as Louis’s breath ghosts over his neck, but he manages a small nod. “I - yeah. Texted them before I came on the bus. It’s - all good yeah.”

Louis sighs again and butts his forehead against Zayn’s temple.

“I should - “

“Tomorrow, babe yeah. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

He feels Louis nod against him before he pulls back, tugging wordlessly at Zayn’s arm.

“Come on, then.”

Louis’s voice is still pitched low, but the sharp edge is missing, his accent flowing around the words now rather than spiking through them and Zayn nods.

“Yeah, babe. Give me a minute, get out of these bloody jeans.”

Louis laughs at that and falls back on to his bunk, his eyes now intent on Zayn’s face.

Zayn says nothing as he tugs off his shoes and peels his jeans off his legs, sighing in relief when they’re in a puddle on the floor.

He settles back on Louis’s bunk, facing him now as he leans up to press a quiet kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“All right?”

“Anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”

Zayn buries his face in Louis’s neck for a moment before biting lightly just behind his ear, which makes Louis shift under him.

“Zayn - “

“Yeah, babe, I’ve got you.”

They kiss for a while; both indulging themselves in the feel of it; the rub of fingers along arms and under t-shirts; the bite and slight sting of teeth over an over-sensitised bottom lip; the languid drag of tongues and mingled breath until Louis grinds his hips up against Zayn’s in a wordless question.

Zayn pushes up long enough so they can both rid themselves of their t-shirts and pants before resettling himself over Louis, biting back a groan when their now-hard cocks rub against each other.

“What you want, babe, it’s all you,” Zayn says quietly after sucking a series of bruises into Louis’s shoulder where they’ll be covered by a t-shirt.

“Want - need your mouth Z, please -” Louis bites his lip - red and swollen already and Zayn has to trace the shape of it with his thumb, feeling its warmth on his own skin like tiny electric shocks.

He kisses Louis again, deep and long until Louis is moaning into his mouth and nearly rubbing off against his thigh. He nips shallowly at Louis’s bottom lip before moving, making an invisible map of his own with his tongue and his teeth over Louis’s skin as he moves down the bunk.

It’s not the most comfortable position but Zayn shifts around between Louis’s legs until he feels like he’s not going to cut off his own circulation.

Louis raises his head once before letting it thump back on to his pillow and shifting his hips; always restless.

Zayn puts a hand on one hip, soothing over the heated skin. 

“ _Zayn_ ”.

Louis’s cock is hard, rising up from its small nest of dark brown curls; thick and dark against Louis’s tan skin. There’s a bead of pre-come at the tip and Zayn swipes it carefully with his thumb before lifting it and nudging at Louis’s lips.

Louis opens his mouth and closes it around the tip of Zayn’s thumb, moaning a little as his eyes flutter shut.

Zayn takes it back and re-settles himself, leaning over carefully and licking up the length of Louis’s cock once, as slowly as he can. He can feel the beat of his own arousal in his veins; he’s as hard as Louis, but he sets it aside as best as he can as he lowers his mouth over the tip of Louis’s cock, taking into his mouth slowly but steadily.

He repeats the action a few times, keeping the same pace, and watching as Louis’s skin flushes dark under the weak light of his bunk’s lamp.

Louis reaches down and tangles one hand in Zayn’s hair; not tugging on it, but just resting his fingers among the thick strands as Zayn increases his pace, closing his eyes and resisting the temptation to touch himself just yet.

He wants to make Louis feel good; get Louis off first before anything else happens. He sinks down again and again on Louis’s cock, feeling the ache in his jaw as he gets sloppy and Louis’s hips stutter up again and again.

“Zayn - Zayn - ah - I - shit -” it’s the only warning Zayn gets before Louis is coming down his throat, tugging hard enough on Zayn’s hair that Zayn knows he’s going to feel it tomorrow.

He pulls off carefully, drawing in a deep breath. Louis’s head is thrown back, his neck arched and Zayn scrambles up, clumsy suddenly in a way he isn’t usually. He spits gracelessly in his hand before wrapping a hand around his own dick, frantically pulling himself off, feeling his orgasm curling up his spine and back down again like a thread of heat and steel.

He’s groaning deep and low, his free hand gripping Louis’s shoulder as he comes, suddenly, spattering Louis’s neck and collarbones in white.

Zayn feels hot and a little bit gritty, like there’s sand under his skin somehow. His heart is racing and he can’t quite catch his breath.

Louis grins up at him, wide open and bright now, and it’s that, as much as anything else, that lets Zayn catch his breath and collapse on top of Louis in a heap.

Louis pushes at him with no enthusiasm at all before sliding an arm around Zayn’s back.

“I’m filthy Malik, look at me.”

Zayn snorts and bites at Louis’s shoulder again before humming against his skin.

“I’ll get a wash cloth in a minute, princess. Let me catch my breath.”

Louis just tightens his arm around Zayn’s back and reaches out to pull the curtain across before he yawns obscenely in Zayn’s ear.

“Nah, s’alright. Y’can scrub me down in the shower tomorrow.”

Zayn rolls his eyes even though Louis can’t see him and pushes off until he’s lying on his side with his back against the wall of the bus.

Louis turns and shamelessly cuddles into him, somehow pulling up the blankets at the same time.

They sort out their arms and legs and Zayn manages - just - to stay awake until Louis’s breathing evens out into sleep, and Zayn lets himself finally fall over the edge, content finally that his boy is alright.


End file.
